


Because You're My Friend

by hedgehog_jawn



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crime Scenes, Cuddling, Deductions, Fluff, Hugging, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Death, No Smut, Sherlock Makes Deductions, Very fluffy eventually, but there be plenty of fluff, especially eggs, harmed food, no porn for you, oh those poor eggs, sherlock being a bit of an arse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:46:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgehog_jawn/pseuds/hedgehog_jawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since I met John, I had noticed that I felt a certain warmth with him. That I could simply be myself, without judgement. I simply couldn't grasp this; everyone seemed to have a piece of distaste laid aside for me, but not John. John was different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So this is my first attempt at writing Johnlock. I may post more chapters if this turns out alright. Feel free to drop a comment and if you do see any errors or possible ways in which I can improve something then do tell!  
> Happy reading!
> 
> My twitter is Hedgehog_Jawn, I'll be posting notices in relation to this fic there.
> 
> Oh and my tumblr is sherlocks-falling-fast in case you wanted to, y'know, follow me. Heh, hint hint ;)

Ever since I met John, I had noticed that I felt a certain warmth with him. That I could simply be myself, without judgement. I simply couldn’t grasp this; everyone seemed to have a piece of distaste laid aside for me, but not John. John was different. This intrigued me beyond the cases I had solved. And one night, I couldn’t keep my eyes from him, trying to figure out why John responded to me in such a fashion. I didn’t realize that he had noticed my staring until he brought it up in conversation. He asked why I was watching him and I simply replied by asking him why he always supported me and stood by me, no matter what. He replied simply with,

“Because you’re my friend, people are mean to you because they are not fortunate enough to see through the rudeness and the wit, they are not fortunate enough to see the amazing, intelligent and beautiful person that you are!”

I was... for once, silenced by this. I hadn’t expected this response. And so I had found another aspect of John which I could not wait to try and deduce. John seemed to pick up on this, and I allowed the smile to creep upon my features. I didn’t know what to do, so I advanced towards John and brought him closer to myself to embrace him in a hug. At first he was shocked by my sudden act and stood still, but when he realised it was in good nature, he hugged back. We stood there in the middle of the flat, just hugging, enjoying the comforting warmth of each other. After a few minutes or so, I withdrew from the hug. The expression on John’s face displayed a show of emotions, shocked, as well as delighted. I moved to the kitchen to make us both a cup of tea, opening the cupboards to retrieve two mugs upon entering. When I returned to John I handed him his tea before joining him on the sofa. We conversed for an hour or so before deciding to depart and head to bed.

 

\----

 

When John woke in the morning, the scent hanging in the air was of burning, something was on fire. Panic rolled quickly rolled in, John quickly ran downstairs to make sure that the flat – and most importantly Sherlock – was safe and that it was not in flames. Instead he found a frustrated Sherlock frowning at a pan atop the stove, attempting to cook egg on toast. John was flattered by Sherlock’s attempt at making him breakfast, he deemed it sweet.

“John, I… Tried… I made… breakfast” even Sherlock himself didn’t know what to say about his cooking attempt, it was pretty poor.

“For someone as intelligent as you are, it’s quite surprising that you can’t cook, not very well anyway”.

Sherlock frowned. All the hard effort he’d just put in to try and cook John breakfast, and John couldn’t even say thank you. How rude, he thought. John couldn’t help but notice the sad expression on Sherlock’s face so decided to walk up to him to embrace him in yet another hug in an attempt to cheer him up. Sherlock broke away from the hug after a few seconds and just as John was about to ask why, Sherlock’s hand moved to caress John’s face gently and tilted him head down to gently kiss him. At first John was startled and it took a few seconds for him to respond with the correct enthusiasm. Within a matter of seconds, John and Sherlock where leaning against the kitchen counter, fingers intertwined in each other’s hair, softly kissing. John’s tongue brushed the outside of Sherlock’s lower lip, as if asking for entrance. Sherlock opened his mouth slightly to grant John access, cool breath escaping in a short gasp, playing along Johns face. John and Sherlock continued the kiss for a few minutes, both forgetting all sense of time, when the fire alarm went off. Its shrill siren caused the two to pull apart abruptly, each gasping, though grins were formed atop their facial pallet. They had got so caught up in their actions that they had completely forgotten about the eggs that were still cooking on the stove.

The distinct sound of Mrs Hudson’s shoes could be heard echoing up the stairs and through the flat. Sherlock and John each took a courteous step away from each other so that they were no longer in such close proximity of each other. By the time that Mrs Hudson reached the kitchen, both men where red in the face and flustered. Mrs Hudson’s gaze switched between the two men as her eyebrows arched at the sight of the two males so close to one another. Within seconds her eyes darted to the thick, dark smoke emitting from the burnt food behind them.

“My, you two have gotten yourselves into a bit of a pickle, haven’t you?”  She bustled around their smoky kitchen, waving her hands slightly as a sign for the two to get out of the way as she sorted out the stove, turning off the heat and removing the charcoaled remains from the pan and into the bin. Placing the scolding hot metal into some cool water, she turned back to the two, whom seemed to have the looks of two school boys caught doing something wrong, eyes cast down and away almost in ‘shame’.

“What were the two of you doing so close to each other in the kitchen anyway? Or shall I just assume that you were doing what I thought you were?” Although Mrs Hudson was smaller than both men, it was as if she was looking down on them.

“We…Erm…We were…” John stuttered, not sure what to say.

“We were simply trying to figure out how the stove worked. When the smoke emitted we each started coughing, that is why the blood has rushed to our faces” Sherlock quickly supplied.

“Well, ok then. I’ll just leave you two to ‘inspect the oven’” Mrs Hudson winked before then walking out the door and heading downstairs back to her own flat,  leaving the two men alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for this being so short. I do hope to add more chapters and hopefully extend the story. If you have any suggestions then I am welcome to hear them. And wow, Mrs Hudson is a bit of a cock block isn't she?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a case, but for once Sherlock doesn't want to go. John decides to drag him to the crime scene anyway, he'll be thanked for it later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Chapter two as promised. Big thank you to all those who have left a kudos, I didn't expect such a great response.  
> Happy reading!

John was sprawled out comfily across the couch, watching what could only be described as ‘crap telly’. Sherlock was sat in his armchair scanning through the day’s newspaper, as if looking for something in particular; he was not, in fact looking for anything, just attempting to rid himself of boredom. John’s phone emitted a high-pitched buzzing sound which immediately caught his attention. The army doctor almost immediately took his phone out of his pocket to read the text that he’d just received.

**Meet me at Scotland Yard ASAP. I have a case involving a murder in a car park not far from Leister Square. –Lestrade**

John typed a quick message saying that they’ll be at the crime scene soon before rising from his seat in his chair and heading for the door; where his coat was neatly hung.

“C’mon Sherlock, we’ve got a case.” He called out. As he was walking towards the door he was stopped in his tracks by a tall figure wrapping his arms around John’s waist.

“Sherlock, w-what are you doing? Lestrade needs us near Leister Square for a case.” John wasn’t overly fussed about going out to solve a case, in all honesty he was fairly tired and Sherlock’s arms seemed a lot more inviting. He would much rather stay in the flat and watch television whilst hopefully cuddling with Sherlock, if he wanted to cuddle that was. However he needed to get Sherlock out of the flat, else he would soon tire of John’s company and grow bored. A bored Sherlock usually meant damaged possessions or occasionally damaged walls. Mrs Hudson wouldn't be too pleased about her walls being abused once more and John would rather the rent didn't go up on account of Sherlock’s random fits of excessive emotion.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John’s words. He leaned down so that his lips were pressed up against John’s ear, brushing the outer shell slightly as he spoke. “I don’t want to go out, John. I’d much rather we’d finished what we started this morning. Besides, the case can’t be that important else he would have text me.” Sherlock’s voice was calm and intriguing, rumbling through John’s ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine that was now pressed firmly up against Sherlock’s chest. How could John say no to that? How could he say no to the deep, soothing voice? Those lips oh so close to John’s ear and… No!  John had to stop himself before his mind wondered too far. As wonderful as staying at the flat with Sherlock would be, he’d already told Lestrade that he’d be there and Sherlock would thank him later for the case.

“No, Sherlock. I've already told Lestrade that we’d be there, besides I thought you’d like a case?” John inquired, though he didn't want to say no to Sherlock, after all he quite liked the idea of cuddling up with Sherlock and watching television whilst drinking tea.  John didn't take Sherlock as someone whom would respond in such manors, so this came as a pleasant surprise.

“Fine” Sherlock said flatly before removing his arms from John’s waist in an almost sullen response to his words. John was mildly disappointed with how empty he felt at the removal of Sherlock’s arms, and the disappearance of the taller male’s warmth pressed against his back. Feeling slightly colder now, John moved forward and grabbed his coat before continuing towards the door. Sherlock followed swiftly behind him, matching his strides until they made it out of the flat and onto the cold streets of London. They stood for mere minutes before a cab drove down the street, stopping for both men. John climbed in after Sherlock who had moved to sit as far away from the army doctor as possible, sulking.

 

\---

 

The cab ride was short and silent. John didn’t make any effort to engage in conversation, he knew that it was no use when Sherlock was in one of his moods. Upon arriving at the crime scene the pair marched over to Lestrade, Sherlock’s coat billowing in the wind as they went. John followed closely behind the detective, forcing himself to keep his eyes from trailing down Sherlock’s gorgeous body. 

"What do you have for me? Beside a dead body, that is." Sherlock’s knack for skipping the pleasantries on full display.

"Nothing more than what you can see, though you can probably see a lot more than I can" Lestrade muttered, waving his hands in the direction of the corpse which was surrounded by the yellow and black 'no entry, crime scene' tape. Sherlock tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment to the small sense of praise he received from the inspector, however he didn’t say anything, there was no need.

"You can go. I'll come see you when I have something." Sherlock dismissed the two men with a wave of his arm before approaching the body. He crouched down beside the body, examining it. He stayed at the body’s side for a good ten minutes, adding all the evidence together before reproaching John and Lestrade. 

“There are red marks across the body, possibly from ropes by the almost burn-like texture. The victim must have struggled as these marks seem to be quite prominent. By the looks of the pattern running along the wrists and ankles, the murderer must have tied the victim up before killing them. There's also a broken window on the first story, I assume she tried to escape due to the struggle against the ties and damage caused, not to mention the stains of blood on the outside of the building – obviously not hers as she does not have any cuts, only bruising – meaning that she attempted to protect herself from the killer, causing him injury. Also the fact that there's more than one set of footprints on the inside of the windowsill adds up to prove that she attempted to escape the killer. The murderer has size eight feet, is a runner, and slim. The murderer caught up to her around this area”. Sherlock gestured to an area on the ground - a few yards away from the three of them - with the wave of his arm, circling his wrist slightly to show a radius. 

"The gravel is disturbed around that area, telling us that the body was then dragged. The murderer then proceeded to kill the woman – by strangling her, in case you didn’t already know, which is quite likely – in that spot and then dragged her once more to where her body lays now, he then fled the area before hiding the corpse. Stupid mistake" Sherlock continued to present his deductions to Lestrade, whilst John listened in closely with the usual look of amazement spread across his face.

“Brilliant.” John muttered before he could stop himself.

“Hang on a minute…” Lestrade interjected. “How do you know that the killer is a bloke? They could be a woman.”

“Oh Lestrade, please tell me you’re not _that_ stupid. Isn’t it obvious? The shape of the foot prints indicating he is wearing men’s boots. How his footprints are spread out, telling us how he walks and the length of his strides.” He stated as if it was obvious.

The inspector sighed, knowing that Sherlock was likely correct. “I’ll have Molly examine the marks on the body for the possible weapons that may have been used, other than ropes.” He informed them. “Would you mind popping in on Monday to write a statement?”

Sherlock sighed rather dramatically. “If it will keep you from pestering me” Sherlock muttered, a bored expression plastered upon his face. He turned on his heal, heading for the main road to hail a cab. John followed closely behind the taller man, almost as if he was a lost puppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the length of these chapters are alright. If you would like them to be longer then just tell me, I'd be happy to oblige. Chapter three soon...Hopefully.


End file.
